Anonymous Depression
by silgidane
Summary: Ryouga alone while Akane and Ranma are getting married. Reviews appreciated.


He sat at a small plastic chair in what he thought was Yokohama ****

*Disclaimer: Everything except this fic belongs to Rumiko Takahashi (Takahashi Rumiko) and all the companies whose names I can't remember at the moment.

*Rating: PG. Mild cursing.

*Notes: My first Ranma ½ fic. It's kinda confusing at some parts. I have no idea what the hell it's supposed to be. I just started typing one day and this resulted. Please tell me if it.... 

a) oh, dear God! What have you done to the series!

b) Ugh. 

c) I've seen better and worse 

d) it's okay

****

Anonymous Depression

He sat at a small plastic chair. The small, microscopic round table barely had enough room for both his elbows. He was feeling very depressed and the cheery cafe with the stupid people inside who were so damn happy weren't helping. 

"Hey! Get your feet off the sidewalk!" He raised his tired eyes to a overgrown man looking very ticked off. By him was a small, frail girl with white-blonde hair, clinging to his arm. They looked so ridiculous and happy and happily riduculous (or ridiculously happy?); with him being so big and dark and her being so little and pale. The Hulk and the chipmunk. 

The man sighed irritably and stepped over his legs, the girl following suit. The couple walked away, arms around each other. He noted with mild intrest that the girls arm had to strain to go halfway around his waist. _What I wouldn't give to be like that. I'd love to be happy. _It was quite a while before he noticed his position: he was sprawled out all over the place, his legs flailed across the sidewalk, his arms hanging off the table, and his head drooping against the window pane. He didn't bother to move; everyone could just literally walk all over him. Everyone already did figuratively. Besides, he was too damn tired to care. 

He scowled at his reflection, mentally cursing every single person inside the stupid restaurant- what was it called, anyways? He lifted his head with much difficulty and craned his neck way, way back to read the stupid genki sign. Koibito Hanten. What a naueseating name. What kind of sick, twisted _freak_ would name a place where people had to **eat** the Lover Cafe? 

__

A happy freak. He let his head bang down against the cheap table painted in too-bright red. He tried to remember what he was doing before he read the sign. Oh, yeah. He was being bitter and sad and pathetic. He raised his eyes once again to the bustling, overly pink interior of the cafe. 

He observed with bitter sadness that every person in there seemed to be in love. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Have these people nothing better to do than torment him like this? He winced involutarily as a girl with short hair leaned across the miniscule table to meet lips with a black-haired man. 

Oh, sure, that wasn't _them_, but he had fallen into the mother of all depressions, so it didn't matter if it was them or not. All that mattered was _they_ were getting married. Not her and him, _him _and _her_. 

He shook his head slightly, trying to make sense of his thoughts... he couldn't seem to remember anyone's names, least of all his own. All he knew was that the one he loved was having her heart and soul bound to his greatest rival at this moment. All he knew was that his chest hurt, his head felt empty, his eyes felt deadened, and he wanted to kill himself if he had enough strength to lift up his eyebrow. 

He growled a little as one of the couples on the far side of the room laughed together, oblivious to the world. He was suddenly feeling violent. He suddenly wanted to go in there and beat the crap out of every single damn **happy** person. 

He turned his eyes to the seat across from him. Glaringly bright red. If he was a normal person, he might've had the tiniest chance of having her sitting there, smiling in all of her angelic glory. He would smile too, and then they would just look at each other's eyes, getting lost in them or something equally cliche and she would say something, and they'd both laugh in unison. If it was a near perfect world, she would be enfolded in his embrace. If it was a near perfect world, she would be sitting across from him, and she would love him more than a friend, more than a pet. 

He eyed a bottle of wine a nearby couple was sharing. Wine... didn't he drink that today? He might've; he wasn't sure. Where was he again?... oh yeah... Akane...

He remembered her name! He would be smiling if his head and chest didn't hurt so much... Kami-sama, he felt like he was about to explode. Tears prickled threateningly at the back of his eyes... crying was weak! He wouldn't do it in front of all these sickeningly genki genki strangers... divert your attention...

They were getting married today. 

__

No, baka!!! Don't think about that! Too late... he was gone. There would probably be a rather simple wedding: small church with stained glass windows; smooth, rich wooden beams across the high ceiling; tall doors with gleaming handles. The minister would be a kind, elderly old man, standing in front of his lace-covered pulpit, worn Bible with golden gilded edges open wide. 

Candles: millions of blazing candles, glowing with a soft, radiant light, illuminating the darkened church with a glorified shine. Flowers, perhaps lilies and roses and baby's breath, would adorn the wooden and the priest's stage. Petals would be strewn along the soft velvet carpet leading to groom. All their family members and friends would be sitting teary-eyed in their seats, blessing the bride and her soon to be husband silently. 

The organ would play a soft, gentle aria as the pastor smiled down kindly at the nervous man in a suit, hair perfect and every detail flawless. Slowly, the doors at the end would open, and then-

And then...

Then she would appear, blissfully blinding in pure, silky white. Her hair would be woven with flowers. She would be perfect as she had been for the past 17 years- for her life. 

Slowly, as an angel descending from heaven, she would step forward, never breaking her gaze with the man in front of her. She would reach him after an eternity, smiling shyly and softly, eyes shining with unshed tears. The sunlight streaming in from the stained glass windows would weave patterns on her gown. The gentle radiance of the candles would play off her shining face, relecting in her eyes. 

They would murmur their handwritten vows, say 'I do', joyfully linking themselves forever. The minister, **_damn him!_**, would pronounce them husband and wife. Then they would kill Ryouga- they would shatter his heart, soul, and spirit, murder his hopeless dreams. 

They would kiss; capture each other's lips with their own; never mind Ryouga! Oh no, it's not like **he **had a heart, it's not like **he **loved her more than he loved life, it's not like **he** felt anything! Oh, no! Because Hibiki Ryouga wasn't supposed to be good for anything except keeping Ranma on his toes. 

He hardly registered that he remembered his name and Ranma's, too. He was lost inside his hellhole. He was playing out his nightmare... a nightmare he could picture so very vividly, could smell the scent of the sweet flowers and touch the smooth frame of the walls, could see the embodiment of perfection shining with her own celestial glow, could touch the heat of the ever burning candles, flames flickering dangerously... 

"Ryouga?"

His eyes became focused again and he looked up into the face of another person... She looked familiar... what was her name? She made pancakes or something...

"Ryouga?" the girl repeated, eyes concerned. Ukyou! That was it. "Ohayo, Ukyou," he croaked hoarsely. She leaned in, taking a closer look at how terrible he looked. A harsh, cold wind blew, causing her brown hair to fly into his face. 

Didn't she used to have her hair in a ponytail? "You let your hair down?" It was really more of statement than a question. She nodded. "Why aren't you at the wedding?" Her voice sounded rough. 

He could feel his eyes glazing over. _Wedding.... or funeral? _"I think I got lost," he said, losing himself in his twisted fantasy once again. "You think you got lost?" said Ukyou, frowning a little. "Oh, yeah, Ukyou. What are you doing in Yokohama?" he asked. 

She leaned in closer to him- close enough for him to see her tearstained face and red eyes. "Uh, jackass"- she could hardly choke the word out- "this is still Nerima."

He would've been surprised if it didn't happen so much and if his limp mind could process the sentence. She pulled out the opposite chair and lowered her body into it-

"Iie!" he shouted bolting up in his own chair. "Get out of the chair!" he almost shouted. "Get out of the chair!" He must've looked like a complete lunatic, he was sure, jumping around and screeching like a girl. Ukyou looked at him, surprise and shock and sadness written in her eyes...

And she slowly got up and walked away. Then she broke into a run, sobbing just loud enough so that Ryouga could hear. He could feel the disapproving looks of the spectators, but he ignored them. His outburst drained his already weak energy- he was now running on empty. He collapsed (gratefully?) into the chair, staring at the seat across from him once again.

He hadn't meant to yell at Ukyou like that... but he just needed to have that spot empty. Maybe... possibly... for her? As pathetic as it sounded, he wouldn't let go. Not just yet. That spot was for the one he loved. He'd keep it empty for her.

Besides, he didn't want company. Wallowing in self-pity wasn't something he wanted to share and he didn't want to drag Ukyou into his pit of absolute Hell. He relaxed his body and looked upwards through the glass and into the restaurant. People were still happy. Still laughing. Still in love.

Tornadoes could strike, bombs could fall, fires could rage, wars could start, and there would still be the lovers, happy and laughing through it all.

He sighed inaudibly, refocusing his vision on his reflection. Sad eyes stared back at him. The velvet night sky sheeted the world in its dark embrace behind his gaze. 

Sometimes you have to be depressed alone. 


End file.
